


You're Not a Virgin, Stiles Stilinski

by vacci_piano



Series: Stop Making It Worse [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Everyone Is Alive, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Mpreg, New Years, Sort Of, Surrogacy, Surrogate Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacci_piano/pseuds/vacci_piano
Summary: "I'm pretty sure I get like, moral points for not ignoring a pregnant girl in trouble. And, and being helpful!"
Relationships: Derek Hale & Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski
Series: Stop Making It Worse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525187
Comments: 34
Kudos: 468





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas you filthy animals

Stiles had been traipsing around the forest after giving Boyd and Erica the slip - seems they were more interested in making googly eyes at each other, rather than helping him in his quest of locating a very potent breed of wolfsbane - when he spotted her.

He hadn't meant for anything to happen, honest!

It's just that there are certain _rules_ to life that any decent human being should at least attempt to follow. And fine, maybe Stiles' decency was dubious at the best of times, but at least he was trying his best.

And so it came to be, that on this particular Christmas Eve, Stiles came across a girl ("A fairy, Stiles.") bawling her eyes out, nearly inconsolable. And who was Stiles to ignore her? They were in the middle of a creepy forest, alone with only each other for company. So what if her ears were a little pointy? She didn't exactly look like the poster child for stranger danger. ("Repeat after me, Stiles. She's. A. Fairy.")

*

Stiles gave an awkward cough, announcing his presence. The fairy barely glanced at him, continuing to sob.

"I-I cannot believe this is happening to me. I was being so careful! I did every ritual I could think of..." She trailed off, finally noting the puzzled expression on Stiles' face.

"I am pregnant." She hurried on to explain.

Ah. Well.

"The father. He... He is not going to want to claim me or the babe."

Stiles grimaced and took one of her hands in his, petting it in a placating manner. "He said that?"

She hiccuped and shook her head. "I have not told him yet, for I lack the courage. But I do know him, and the last thing he is going to want is a babe, especially this time of the year, when merry festivities are afoot."

"Meaning...?"

She sniffed. "This is a _Yuletide babe_. Sacred and protected. Of course there are ways to take care of _unwanted_ situations, but this is different. Babes that are conceived during Solstices... We do not _do_ that, not to them." She took a deep breath, looking somber. "I suppose I could visit a hospital and swap it with a human babe. Those things are easy to get rid of."

"Oh. Um. I wouldn't recommend doing that. In fact, please don't do that."

The fairy paid Stiles no mind.

"I am going miss all the festivities. Nobody is going to invite me to meet their entourage. I will never feel the love and touch of another soul ever again!" As her voice rose an octave higher and she succumbed to near hysterical crying, Stiles panicked and did something very, very stupid.

He offered to help.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Usually it took a bit longer for Stiles' brain to catch up with what his mouth was saying, but this time the regret was instantaneous. The fairy had stopped wailing, and later, if asked, Stiles would recount this as the moment when things got set in motion, making way for a little Christmas miracle.

*

Derek is wearing his infamous Scowl of Doom™, except Stiles is about 99% positive Derek's eyebrows are looking more murderous than usual.

Once again, Boyd and Erica are sporting the very same looks of horror Stiles has come to associate with his own influence in their lives. It's a wonder, truly, that the betas don't resent him half as much as they probably should.

"You were supposed to be watching him."

"He was gone for only 15 minutes!"

Next thing Stiles knows, Derek's throwing the two around like rag-dolls. Stiles would feel guilty, except being Derek's beta comes with certain responsibilities, and one of those responsibilities includes, you guessed it, looking after a _Disaster! Thy name is Stiles!_

Stiles looks on in mild surprise, as neither beta seems to be suffering from more than a few broken ribs, or extreme blood-loss. Was Derek getting soft?

"Can I just say, you're taking this a lot better than I expected. Also," here, he pauses to point at his protruding belly. "I'm like, super freaked out, so I'm gonna pass out now."

*

When he comes to, he's lying in Derek's bed with the were standing by, arms crossed.

"What. Did. You. Do."

Stiles continues to be impressed with how Derek manages to make a question sound less like a question, and more like a statement of general disapproval.

Stiles is getting ready to defend his own honor, but deflates a little because _this is Derek_. Bullshitting only works when the party being lied to isn't a mean, lean, walking _lie detector_. "Technically, I didn't _do_ anything."

"Stiles. Please." Damn. Derek actually looks hurt. Stiles bites the insides of his cheeks, refusing to look Derek directly in the eye. Manipulative bastard. How dare he look like a kicked puppy? Only Scott retains that privilege.

"Fiiine. So I'm not saying I'm blameless, but this wasn't my fault."

It totally was his fault.

"There was a fairy."

Derek remains quiet.

"I approached her."

Any second now...

"I talked to her."

And there they are. Those judge-y eyebrows he's come to love so much.

"Stiles. You're not supposed to talk to the fae. You _know_ this. I distinctly remember _you_ telling _us_ to never approach a fairy, during a presentation that lasted for _hours_."

"She was crying! And heavily pregnant! ... Not that I knew she was pregnant when I approached her, because see, when she was talking about Solstice babies or whatever, I thought she'd just learned she was expecting - since she wasn't showing, at all, whereas I look like I'm ready to pop any day now. I mean, that is a clever trick, being able to hide your-"

"Stiles!"

"I'm pretty sure I get like, moral points for not ignoring a pregnant girl in trouble. And, and being helpful!"

"Stiles."

"What?"

"You don't _have_ morals."

Stiles gasps, readying for a rebuttal but Derek doesn't let him start. "No, Stiles, you really don't. You know the difference between right and wrong, and you know _about_ morals. Following them just hasn't been your strong suit. Ever. You feel bad when you're about to do bad shit but then you do it anyway."

Stiles crosses his arms and huffs. "To-may-to, toh-ma-toe. Personally, I think I just lack impulse control. I'll have you know I'm a very moral person."

Derek presses the palms of his hands against his eyes, almost like he's thinking about something else and not paying attention. "Shit. Your dad's not gonna like this."

It's a good thing Stiles is already lying on a bed. He may not be able to get up for a while.

*

"You know," he starts, "we could drive to Mexico. Start a new life."

"And what about the new life growing inside you? Besides, he's your dad. You'd never get past the border."

Stiles sighs, looking morose. When he finally works up the courage to make his way inside, they find his dad in the kitchen sipping coffee. The cup slips loose the moment Noah registers his son's newly acquired form and that no, his eyes aren't playing tricks on him and _this_ is Beacon Hills and _that_ is his heavily pregnant son.

*

One anecdote about Virgin Mary later - yes, _thank you Stiles_ , we get the picture - the Sheriff makes a call to Dr. Deaton. The man has an annoying habit of trying to avoid Stiles as much as possible, but seems to have no qualms about taking the Sheriff's calls.

As they lumber into the Sheriff's cruiser to go see the vet, the Sheriff makes it a point to make Stiles sit in the back _like a common delinquent_ \- but ha, the joke's on his dad, because Stiles has long ago gotten used to this kind of treatment! Except then Derek takes the front seat and Stiles is faced with the ironic echo of their shared past. It makes Stiles question his life and his choices in general, and it must show on his face, because his dad and Derek are both smirking openly.

*

Deaton is wearing a cheery Christmas sweater and it's almost enough to make Stiles forget about his situation. _How many pink reindeers does it take to fill an entire sweater?_ Stiles needs to know and gets ready to try and discreetly take a few pictures on his phone, only to stop in his tracks when he catches Deaton looking at him.

"You said the fairy mentioned a Yuletide baby?" At Stiles' nod, he gives a deep sigh. "That complicates things. Unfortunately, she was right. There isn't anything we can do to prevent the birth," Stiles feels Derek rub his back in soothing circles. "Not only because you're nearing the end of the pregnancy - the time works differently in the fae realm, in case you were wondering, and the baby was likely conceived yesterday in our time - but because Solstices boost magic. An unborn baby or fetus of fae origin under the protection of a Solstice is a powerful thing. Terminating one is unheard of." He seems to finally take pity on Stiles, taking note of the greenish pallor of his face. "But try not to worry too much. My understanding is, the fae will contact you when the time is ready. Provided you haven't offended one of them, they will make sure you'll be taken care of during the process. Best case scenario, they'll use magic to get the baby out of you just as quickly as they got it _in_ you."

Well, gee, doesn't Stiles just feel special. Being used as an incubator tends to have that effect. Things he never thought he'd get to experience in his lifetime? Becoming a surrogate would have been at the top of his list.

"It's strange though. The fae never treat virgins in this manner," Deaton muses. "For you to have been chosen, you'd have to have been - forgive the expression - defiled very recently, and without... protection." For someone whose diction never wavers from irritatingly calm, Deaton sounds remarkably not at all sorry, _the bastard_.

Both Stiles and Derek freeze.

The Sheriff finally notices the placement of Derek's hands.

Deaton takes a sip from his mug of hot cocoa.

*

The Sheriff remains quiet until he and Stiles get home.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you're a virgin."

Stiles opens and closes his mouth, trying to get the words out, say _anything_. He thinks he might look like a blow-fish.

"I..."

His dad keeps staring.

"I'm a... Virgin?" He tests the word out, but Stiles can tell his dad's not buying it.

When Stiles says nothing else, Noah simply nods and continues. "So when you told that little story about Virgin Mary, what you actually meant was, 'daddy dearest, despite a thorough lecture on safe sex graciously given by you and then again by nurse McCall, which she didn't have to do, I had sex without protection and now I have a bun in the oven'. Is that about right?"

"Buns."

"What?"

"Buns, dad. Not a bun. _Buns._ Derek said there might be two, but who knows with the fae."

Noah's face betrays nothing, but Stiles knows to keep quiet until his dad has fully processed the information. Doesn't stop him from nervously jiggling his feet, though.

Only his dad hasn't said a word and it's been over 10 minutes, which in Stiles' view means 'time that Stiles could have spent talking', so he can't _not_ say something. "To be fair, I'm a dude so me being pregnant was never-"

He shuts up immediately when his dad puts his hand in front of himself in a universal stop sign, palm facing outwards, like cops do when they're directing traffic.

Stiles supposes it's an apt description because this whole situation feels like a never-ending car crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Deaton guess correctly or was he just being a dick? We may never know.
> 
> This was super rushed and non-edited, yikes. (Try to enjoy it anyway?)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My love for you is eternal  
> Nothing compares to your bitter taste  
> To your darkest shade  
> Your smell keeps me going  
> And as we separated  
> Know that it was not I who abstained  
> This unholy deed was the work of grubby paws that saw my happiness ended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas continues!

After his dad sends him to bed, Stiles wakes up to the sound of the window opening.

"Your dad wouldn't let me in through the door."

Stiles pats the empty spot beside him and falls back into a deep slumber.

*

In the morning, it becomes increasingly difficult to live in denial and pretend he's a normal boy. Case in point: getting dressed.

His pants from the day previous are a lost cause if the huge rip and the broken zipper are anything to go by, so he ends up wearing a pair of sweatpants that hang dangerously low. Luckily, as an avid collector of oversized and baggy shirts - ever since he started hanging out with his cousin, it kinda became a necessity - he doesn't have too much trouble finding a shirt that stretches around his stomach comfortably.

When he enters the kitchen, he finds Derek in a staring contest with his dad. As he makes a beeline for the coffeemaker and its delicious contents, that sweet nectar of life, Derek blocks him.

"I don't think you're supposed to be drinking coffee in your current state."

"Deaton said there's no getting rid of the baby. As long as the magic's doing its thing, I don't think we have to worry about what I'm putting in my mouth." He mauneuvers himself around Derek but then gets thwarted by his dad, who takes the pot away from Stiles' reach.

"And what if the fae get mad because you're not taking this seriously?"

"Look around you. Do you see a fairy anywhere? No. Do you see your loving son, about to commit patricide?" Stiles reaches for the pot but his dad evades him easily. "Just give me my freaking coffee!"

He's given a mug of hot cocoa instead.

"I hate you both."

_Stiles_ is a coffee person. _Stiles_ does not drink hot cocoa.

He focuses his glare at Derek, annoyed. "You! What are you still doing here?"

"I'm staying for dinner."

"You are?" Stiles and his dad ask simultaneously.

*

As Stiles' texts to Lydia go unanswered, and glaring at his belly does, well, _absolutely nothing,_ Stiles' mood is plummeting and fast.

Not that his dad or Derek are doing any better. They're currently busy trying to put together an edible Christmas dinner - _trying_ being the operative word.

Stiles isn't allowed to help with the cooking because his back and feet are killing him and he thought the other two wouldn't notice, but they did.

Unfortunately, Noah is more busy throwing jabs at Derek born out of fatherly concern and frustration, and Derek is too busy sassing back ("I have nothing to prove. Stiles' ass _is_ mine."), that nothing is actually getting done.

Stiles would be entertained if he wasn't dying inside from pure, unadultered mortification. There are some things his dad _so_ didn't ever need to know. Derek must have balls of steel, because a lesser man would have crumbled before the Sheriff by now.

Lydia finally calls him. "Stiles. Stop sending me stupid love poems about coffee!"

" _Lydia_." He whines.

There's a pause before Lydia speaks again, apparently sensing Stiles' distress. "What's wrong?"

*

After things get a little too heated in the kitchen ("Of course I'm upset! I was supposed to be the one to impregnate your son first!" "YOU WHAT?"), Stiles retires to his bedroom to start research on _magical pregnancies_ as he's really not in the mood for another verbal smackdown from Lydia.

("What do you mean you haven't done any research? You can't just close your eyes, ignore your _pregnancy_ and hope it goes away!")

He's been reading some dusty tomes he and Lydia pilfered from the Hale vault, when he, honest to god, comes across instructions given by a 18th century midwife. A midwife who just so happened to be in regular contact with the Fae.

Well, well, well. Isn't that interesting? Turns out, Stiles _can_ close his eyes, ignore the pregnancy and hope it goes away. Suck it, Lydia!

He skips downstairs, ready to announce the good news, when he's greeted by pure chaos.

*

"As much as I appreciate your efforts - _good god what the hell is that_ \- I think it's probably best I order some food. Right?"

Both Stiles' dad and Derek refuse to meet his eyes and hang their heads in shame just as Stiles spots the charred remains of _something_ that has him nearly gagging. "Right. Pizza it is."

*

The pizza guy looks at Stiles with something akin to wonder as the latter tries to balance the pizza boxes on his belly. Stiles tips the guy generously and tells him he just ate a little too much. The guy glances at the stacked pizzas and Stiles shrugs. "What can I say? I can pack in a lot."

"Bro. Mad respect."

A fist bump and a selfie later, Stiles finally makes his way to the living room where his dad and Derek are sitting on the couch, staring at a Hallmark Christmas movie in obvious discomfort. Whether it's because they're sharing a couch or because they're watching a Hallmark movie, Stiles doesn't really care.

He squeezes between the two and hands out the pizzas. One for himself, one for his dad and two for the werewolf.

It's pretty great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Hallmark movies


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you suppose the fae have a return policy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for slight gore in this chapter, but it's nothing compared to what you see in the show.
> 
> Posting this early because I gots irl stuff to do and this is prolly my only chance before New Years.

His dad and Derek think Stiles isn't allowed to go outside and resolve to babysit him in turns.

But after nearly a week cooped up inside the house, Stiles' descent into madness reaches new heights and he's forced to take drastic measures.

His plans bear fruit, when after a few well-placed comments and insinuations - innocently meant of course - the arguing between his dad and Derek escalates to the point that the Sheriff ends up borrowing a dog whistle from the K9 unit.

Stiles knows that like the Terminator, Derek will be back. In the meantime however, Stiles is going to sneak out and enjoy his relative freedom to the fullest. His dad will be too busy congratulating himself - it's gonna be at least a few hours, if the humming is anything to go by - to remember why he was tolerating Derek's presence in the first place.

*

A quick visit to the grocery store for snacks turns out to be an interesting affair. He runs into Coach, who takes one look at his belly and points at it disapprovingly.

"That better not be there when lacrosse season starts."

Stiles gives him a mock salute. "Yes, Coach."

A few passersby slow down their carts to give him a few sweeping looks, but most of them shrug and continue on.

*

Stiles chucks his purchases inside the Jeep and starts making his way out of the parking lot.

The roads are empty which is why Stiles curses when, suddenly, his car stops running. There's no bang or clattering to signal the engine dying. As he steps out of his Jeep to check under the hood, he's hit with the eerie silence of the forest surrounding the road. Forests should never be this quiet or still and it takes him less than a few seconds to flip out his phone.

"Derek. I think it's finally happening. Three miles from the Hale preserve, head west. Get your furry ass here now."

There's an insistent tug in his stomach. He exhales slowly and waits.

*

A howl pierces the air as a big black wolf comes crashing through the bushes. Stiles hands him a pair of jeans he keeps stashed in the Jeep for emergencies.

"Shirt?"

"Hm? Oh. Sorry, must have forgotten to pack one."

He didn't forget, exactly. Now that he has direct access to _a_ _bs-abs-Glory-Hallelujah-abs_ , he doesn't have to conveniently forget about keeping spare shirts in Derek's size, but, old habits die hard.

It's a _very_ nice view.

"I know you have one of Boyd's."

"Do I? Probably wouldn't fit you."

Derek's mouth twitches but he makes Stiles retrieve it for him anyway.

No longer shirtless, Derek steps over to Stiles and caresses his cheek. "Don't think I've forgotten that you're not supposed to be out of the house. I'll make sure you'll get your punishment later."

In hindsight, calling Derek was a mistake.

He could've totally done this alone, then gone back home before his dad even realized he was missing and Derek would be none the wiser. Sure, a non-pregnant Stiles would've raised some eyebrows, but he's sure he could've come up with something.

Derek's voice drops to a low whisper. "This time, I'll make the pack watch."

Stiles stumbles but luckily Derek's there to catch him.

*

"Okay. Ready?" Stiles takes hold of Derek's hand in a firm grip. "Whatever happens, don't let go. Now close your eyes."

They start walking in silence. Despite keeping their eyes shut, they don't trip over any roots or slam into trees. They continue until Stiles hears a bell chime and he opens his eyes to see they're just outside a small cave. The tugging in his stomach finally eases.

"We're here." Derek doesn't say anything in reply but tightens his grip on Stiles. A small, unlit lantern has been left outside and Stiles goes to retrieve it. The instant he touches it, it lights up in a purplish hue.

They enter the cave and start walking again.

*

Whatever Stiles was expecting, it wasn't this.

Sparkling confetti rains down on them, and the floor vibrates along to the thumping of the music, a combination of some kind of dubstep, baroque and death metal. There's glitter everywhere and booze seems to be flowing freely. Stiles thinks he even spots a satyr.

The fae are partying hard.

"Human!" It's the fairy from before, covered in glitter and serpentine streamers. "You are most welcome! I am so happy you could make it."

"Yeah, well, couldn't miss it. Need to get on with the whole birthing thing, right?"

The fairy giggles and leads them further inside. They stop in front of a throne, a gangly fairy with horns sprawled on top of it.

"This is my lover, Oberon the sixth."

Of course the baby daddy would be the King.

Oberon looks Stiles up and down, ready to dismiss him, but then his gaze lands on Derek. His face turns predatory and he sits up. "Have you brought me a wolf? What a thoughtful gift."

Derek growls but Stiles gives his hand a nervous squeeze. Perhaps using Derek as bait wasn't such a great idea.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but the wolf is mine." Oberon's gaze turns sharp.

"Oh? And who are you to appear before me, _human_ , without a gift?"

"I have a gift alright. All you have to do is claim it."

"I do not have to do anything."

"Shame. Perhaps someone else would like it better."

_That_ gets Oberon's attention. Just like all the accounts Stiles has read about members of the fae court, the King is vain, greedy and possessive.

"I will have my gift. I will take the wolf, too, if you ever hope to leave this realm."

"You want my gift?"

"Give it here, human."

Stiles smirks. "As you wish."

He closes his eyes, ignores everything else and _hopes_.

There's a piercing scream and Stiles opens his eyes to see Oberon writhing on the floor and something, or two somethings, trying to burst through his stomach. There's a sickening crunch of bones as his spine bends backwards and blood starts pouring from his every orifice, his mouth gurgling from excess blood and spit.

Stiles is going to be sick. "I'm going to be sick."

Derek gapes at the display in horror and disgust, then starts rubbing Stiles' back in soothing motions as Stiles' breakfast decides to make an appearance.

"How exciting!" One of the fae quips from beside them. "A pair of royal twins! Blessed by a Solstice. Very exciting indeed! A blessing like this comes but once every few hundred years."

"Long live Oberyn the seventh and Titania the third!" Another shouts, soon joined by a chorus of delighted voices.

(Absently, Stiles wonders if the fae have any other names they could use, or if they're stuck using the same two names every time a royal fairy is born.)

*

The fairy girl sidles up to them. "Human, how could I ever thank you enough? I have not one babe, but two, and it is all thanks to you they are claimed. You have made me very happy."

Still a little green, Stiles waves her off. "Happy to help. Really. No biggie."

She looks over at Oberyn's remains. "Shame about my lover. But at least you now have the right to leave this realm. Unless... you would like to stay?"

Stiles shakes his head in alarm.

"Perhaps you would like a gift instead?"

"Oh my god, please don't. I'm begging you."

The fairy giggles again and turns her attention towards Derek. "A gift for your wolf, then."

Next thing Stiles knows, one moment the fairy is there and the next she isn't, and he and Derek have materialized next to the Jeep.

Stiles turns to look at Derek, who's also looking a bit shaken.

"So. Which sex do you want to have first? _Thank god we're not eternally trapped in the fae realm_ or, and here's my personal favorite, _thank god Stiles didn't give birth?_ "

Derek shoves him in the backseat and goes to town. It's a good while before they make it to Derek's loft.

*

"Stiles. Care to tell me why you're not at home?"

"Heeey, dad. Funny you should ask-"

"Stiles."

"Fairies. Derek. Take your pick. But hey, good news! I'm no longer pregnant."

The Sheriff sighs but actually seems relieved. "I take it everything went well?"

"Of course!"

They talk a bit more before his dad informs him he'll be on shift for the rest of the night.

"One more thing."

"Yeah, dad?"

"If Derek doesn't use protection, I will personally neuter him." The line goes dead and Stiles is left gaping at the offending piece of technology in horror. Derek sidles up closer and noses at his collarbone. "Don't worry. You're not gonna get pregnant, at least not yet."

He'd _thought_ Derek was simply trying to rile his dad up.

Stiles drops the phone and Derek uses the opportunity to manouver them towards the huge window. "Not yet? W-what do you mean?" Derek's response is to cover him in kisses instead and Stiles bristles.

"Derek! You asshole! That dick isn't getting anywhere _near_ me, you- "

Fireworks start going off in the distance and for a few seconds Stiles thinks it's all in his head before he realizes that no, even someone like Derek is not _that_ great at kissing - or so he tells himself - and those are actual fireworks going off outside the window. Satisfied that Stiles has been pacified, Derek pulls back from the kiss and Stiles is left gasping for breath.

"Happy New Year, Stiles." And then Stiles really sees fireworks when Derek turns him around, pushes Stiles' naked form against the window - chest first - drops down for better access and makes use of his tongue.

*

Stiles supposes that's one way to keep his dad happy.

*

Come morning, there's a wicker basket with two wolf cubs inside.

"Stiles. Please don't."

Stiles wasn't aware of Derek's optimistic side. How Derek came to the conclusion that he could sway Stiles' decision making, when there are puppies involved, is beyond him.

Stiles crawls over to the basket and gathers the cubs close, snuggling against them.

Derek rubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. When Stiles starts his familiar cooing, Derek's eyes glaze over at the sound, like he's going through a horrible flashback.

"Do you suppose the fae have a return policy?"

The cubs whimper and Stiles whirls around to stare at Derek in utter betrayal.

"It's okay, cubs. Papa doesn't know what he's saying!"

Derek crosses his arms, unmoved.

"The cubs can't stay."

"I'll let you impregnate me as many times as you want."

"The cubs can stay."

Stiles breaks into a smile and gives each cub a smooch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life skills Scott is better at than Stiles:  
> \- not killing people/things  
> \- safe sex
> 
> For shame, Stiles. For shame.


	4. Epilogue

When Peter heard rumors about Stiles' pregnancy, he wasn't expecting this. He's sitting on the couch, taking in the scene before him.

The cubs have dark fur like Derek's, but surely his nephew didn't... There's no way... Already?

"How was the pregnancy?" He asks slowly, a frown firmly planted on his face. The frown has been a constant presence since he stepped inside the loft.

"Oh, you know how it is. Difficult. Lots of blood and gore."

"And you're... Fine...?"

"Oh yeah, totally." Stiles lifts his shirt up and rubs his smooth stomach. "It's like they were never there, y'know?"

Cora's playing with the cubs. "What's the big deal, uncle Peter? Derek's the alpha and Stiles is his, uh, _whatever._ So maybe the cubs learned to shift earlier than most werewolves, but so what?"

"That's just the thing, Cora. I don't think they're like us."

Cora frowns, but before she can ask what her uncle means, Stiles claps his hands to get her attention. "So! You're Derek's sister. I'm so happy Peter finally managed to track you down."

Peter doesn't miss the strange gleam in Stiles' eyes as the latter continues. "I'm glad I managed to convince him to take this little family trip."

"Yeah. Me too. Actually," Cora starts, biting her lip. "I meant to ask you about that. How did you know where I was? Peter wouldn't tell me."

Stiles waves her off. "Oh, don't worry about it. What's important is that you're alive and well, soon to be reunited with your brother. Speaking of," he looks at his phone and gives Cora a blinding smile. "I think he's almost here."

Cora straightens up in surprise. "Really? I don't hear anything."

"I planted a tracker in his car. Why don't you go wait for him? Peter and I will give you some privacy. I'm sure you have lots of things to catch up on."

Cora casts him a considering look, before she shrugs and starts making her way outside.

Stiles tells the cubs to sit. They do so in an instant, tails wagging and tongues lolling. Peter has never seen this kind of behavior in werewolf cubs before. It disturbs him. Stiles gives him a good, long stare, absently rubbing his long fingers against the rim of his coffee cup.

"Lydia and I have decided to let you stay in Beacon Hills."

Peter nods. "But...?"

"But nothing. Behave and we won't have to dispose of you."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

Peter leans his head back against the backrest and exhales, almost dreading his next question.

"Did you do something to Derek?"

"Ah. So you do care. I'm almost touched." Stiles gives him a smirk. "But to answer your question; no, I didn't _do_ anything. What we have is very much mutual. I didn't trick or coerce him or, or whatever. I would _never_ do that to him." He huffs in distaste, then gets that same strange gleam in his eyes as before.

"Although, just between you and me," here, he lowers his voice to nearly a whisper, "I think he has a type."

Peter shivers and avoids looking Stiles in the eye, trying to discreetly adjust his ever-tightening pants.

"As for you... Don't even think about flirting with me or Lydia. _Especially_ Lydia. Nobody needs that."

Peter sighs. "Should you ever change your mind..."

"Save it, creeperwolf."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes our litte Christmas/New Years adventure.
> 
> I wasn't sure about including Peter and Cora at first, but I really wanted Cora for Valentine's and Peter is just fun to play with.


End file.
